The Lil’ Moo and I went to the local Italian Feast and Fair a couple of weekends ago.  It was the first fair I’ve taken him to, though not his first.  Still, we get to have cotton candy, so that’s all good.

As we’re walking from the parking lot to the fair itself, being the good daddy I am, I transform him from Lil’ Moo to hat.  Saving him the walk, so he’s not tired before the actual fair.

The scam artists were out, with their large basketballs and tiny hoops, the bent shotguns and their corks, and of course the dime in a fishbowl.  Nobody ever wins, but everyone plays because they think they know the secret.

The Magic Carpet Ride.  His eyes lit up when he saw kids his size going up the stairs, sliding down, and wanting more.  “Daddy, I want to go on that,” he says.

Of course, I said yes.  We saw some other rides, the Glass House, in particular, which we thought would be fun for him as well.

After we got some cotton candy, we go back with tickets in hand.  I told him to make sure he listens to the man on top and not to go until he says it’s okay.  “I know, Dad,” he says.

He gave the man the tickets, took the burlap “Magic Carpet” sack, and began his ascent.  Taking his time, the Lil’ Moo finally reached the top.

Without wasting time, he sat on his sack and when given the green light, he went.

And boy, did he go!

The problem is that he didn’t sit the whole way down.  In fact, he didn’t sit at all once he left the top.

As he came down that long and bumpy hill, the look of shock, terror, fear, and total excitement was on his face.  I was pleased he didn’t scream the whole way down.

He jumped into my arms and I held him up.  Asked him to tell me what he felt.

“I liked it, Daddy.”

When I asked him if he would go on again, he said, “Nooooooooo.”

We walked around, finding:  The Firetruck.

So for about 5 minutes, he went around and around in circles.  All we needed was an accident and he’d be a NASCAR driver.

He refused to get on any other rides, and the only other thing he would have loved to go on was the bumper cars, which he was too short for.

In an unrelated note, my ear hurts.